Diving for Pearls
by FeliciaMaplewood
Summary: Having only just admitted their attraction to each other, an explosion and injuries may cause Amanda and Lee to lose everything.
1. Chapter 1

**Diving for Pearls**

Set between the end of the third season and before the fourth season.

Synopsis: Amanda and Lee have only just acknowledged their attraction for one another before an explosion and injuries may take everything away from them both.

I would like to send my sincere thanks to my beta, SpyGirl1969 who went above and beyond the call of duty. This story is much better than it would have been without her efforts. All the mistakes are wholly mine.

_Disclaimers and Caveats: __Scarecrow and Mrs. King_ was created by Brad Buckner and Eugenie Ross-Leming, and is a production of Shoot The Moon Enterprises, in conjunction with Warner Bros. Studios. Shoot The Moon Enterprises, Ltd. is owned by Kate Jackson. _Scarecrow and Mrs. King_ was filmed at the Burbank Studios and surrounding areas in Burbank, California. Stock footage filmed in Washington, D.C. during the first season.

Regrettably, I do not own the characters, but I did take them out for another spin. Lee was not amused at my jeopardizing Amanda and pulled out his service revolver before coolly informing me I needed to return them to Warner Bros/Shoot the Moon immediately -- or I wouldn't like the consequences. I decided not to mess with him. Also very regrettably, I will not receive any remuneration – Amanda heard this and shook her head empathetically. She understands the predicament of a working mom.

References are made to a variety of episodes from seasons 1 – 3. Specific allusions are made to the following episodes:

The First Time - Written by Brad Buckner & Eugenie Ross-Leming (excerpts from the episode belong to them)

I Am Not Now, Nor Have I Ever Been ... a Spy - Written by Peter Lefcourt (excerpts from the episode belong to him)

**Diving for Pearls – Chapter One**

Francine looked aghast at the flames shooting from the top of the warehouse. She heard the thunderclap of timed explosions that shook the ground beneath her. Six of their best agents were in that building. It had been a trap - and they had walked right into it.

"Francine!" Billy shook her by the shoulder trying to pull her out of the danger zone. "We need to move away! Come on - now! That's an order, Desmond."

Francine turned to him in mute horror. "No, Billy, no!" Her face was white. "There's a chance we can get them out."

Billy shook his head, his eyes sharing her desolation. "The frame is buckling, Francine. Look!" He pointed at the far end of the warehouse where it was already weakening and leaning, falling in toward the center. "There's nothing we can do - and I won't risk anyone else." His eyes mirrored her pain, but making these tough calls was part of his job. "I can't, Francine. I'm sorry…"

Francine took a step forward toward the building, holding her binoculars up to her eyes in desperate hope. "Wait. Billy! Someone's coming out. On the left, the far left. No - there's two of them. I see Fred…and Orrie's right behind him!" Her voice climbed in hope and fear, maybe there was a chance - just an outside chance they would get them out of there. More of the building started to cave and she coughed as the air filled with particulate and ash. The heat from the inferno blasted across the intervening parking lot.

She heard someone shout on her far right. "Billy, I see Cartwright and….and…I think it's Leatherneck, he's limping. Cartwright's got him." Four….they had four. Oh God, please…Her breath hitched and she could feel the tears as her throat closed tightly. Lee and Amanda were in there. She had to stand here… stand here and watch her friends die before her. Her hand covered her mouth in horror as she bit back a silent scream of anguish. This had been her operation, start to finish, and she had sent her friends in to die needlessly. She was heedless of the tears that ran down her face, hoping against hope, but time was running out.

"Cartwright," Billy bellowed. "What the hell are you doing? Get back here, now!" He watched helplessly as the blond agent, having safely delivered Leatherneck to them, pelted back toward the right of the building.

Francine trained her binoculars on him and grabbed Billy by the arm. "Oh my god, oh my god. It's them," her voice ragged. "Amanda's trying to pull Lee out." Her eyes trained on the slender brunette battling impossible odds as she tried to pull Scarecrow's limp form from the building, buckling under his dead weight. Cartwright dashed forward and hefted Scarecrow across his broad, stocky shoulders in a fireman's lift. Amanda fell to her knees, her body wracked in coughs. Cartwright's words gave her the impetus she needed, and she staggered into a standing position and followed him blindly through the smoke and soot away from the building, which collapsed in entirety as they ran.

"Thank God…Thank God." Billy intoned deeply next to her. He turned to shout at the support staff behind him. "Get a gurney for Scarecrow. We need medics…Let's get a move on, people!"

Francine had torn off to meet them half way, slipping an arm around Amanda's waist as she helped support her to the waiting ambulance. Amanda couldn't stop coughing, and they slipped an oxygen mask over her face. "Lee..?" she mouthed, turning frantic eyes to Francine.

"You did it Amanda, you did it!" She blinked back tears that were in sharp contrast to her face wreathed in smiles. "I don't know how…but you got him out." She held Amanda's limp hand in her own tight grasp.

Amanda's eyes closed weakly in exhaustion, her face ruddy with the heat of first degree burns. "Thank Dave for me," her voice rasped faintly.

"Don't worry, I will!" Giving her hand a final squeeze, she left Amanda in the hands of the medics as they prepared her for transport.

Dave Cartwright sat on the bumper of the van taking occasional draughts from an oxygen mask. He looked exhausted, his head bent down and his hands resting on his knees as he attempted to hold up his stocky frame. Francine didn't think she'd ever seen anything as beautiful as his homely, square cut face. Striding over to him, she called "Dave…Dave!" He looked up in dazed exhaustion to find himself in the diminutive blonde's embrace. After giving him a fierce hug, Francine put both hands on the sides of his face and planted a light kiss on one cheek. "That one was from me," she said exuberantly, "and this one is from Amanda." She leaned forward and kissed the other cheek.

He gave a weary smile and said, "Hey Francine, for that I'd run into another burning building."

"Don't you dare!" Her voice shook with contained laughter and tears.

Billy Melrose joined them, likewise boasting a wide smile. "In view of your heroics, Cartwright, I'll overlook your insubordination. Damn it, you scared the hell out of me, man!" He gave the weary agent a firm handshake. "There's a commendation in this for you, Dave."

"Thanks, sir." Dave coughed, and took a quick breath from the mask.

"We'll save the debriefing for later, but is there anything you can tell us quickly right now?"

"I don't know sir," Dave rasped, his voice roughened from smoke inhalation. "It was rigged from the get-go. Scarecrow went in first. When we heard the explosions, we got cut off from Fielder and McEvoy. I saw a beam fall and get Scarecrow right across his head. Leatherneck was right behind me, and a wall collapsed on him. So, first, I got Leatherneck out. I thought Mrs. King was right behind me…" He shook his head in disbelief. "She wouldn't leave Scarecrow. And damned if she didn't get him out of the building." He looked up at his section chief. "I don't know how the hell she did it, but I _do_ know I'd have never made it back far enough in the building to get him." His body was wracked with a coughing fit. "Are they OK?"

"I don't know about Scarecrow's head injury," Billy said guardedly, "but we think they'll both make it…thanks to you, Dave. Damn fine work, son." He let out a forceful breath. "Get back to the clinic and get yourself checked out and then go home and get some rest, you hear?" He turned to his assistant with a serious face. "Francine, we'd better get to the hospital." They weren't out of the woods yet, and he knew it.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Splitting…knife-like, lancing pain shot through Lee's head. "Uhhh," he moaned, flirting with consciousness. Voices spun through his leaden memory.

"….likely subdural hematoma."

"But will he recover?" The deeply concerned voice sounded like Billy Melrose.

"…matter of time before we know…non-responsive…likely neurological damage." Fragments of what the doctor had replied filtered through.

That had been a while ago. Blearily, Lee opened his eyes to scan his surroundings. As the room spun, he shut them. Great. Another damn hospital room. Weakly, he pushed up and tried to swing his frame out of bed, gripping the bed rail until his knuckles were white. He felt like he had been hit by a convoy, let alone a truck. Drawing on sheer force of will, he tried to stand. Willpower alone wasn't enough; he sank back into the hospital bed in defeat.

Hearing the door open, he saw a slender figure enter the room furtively; her pale skirts swished as she quickly closed the door behind her.

"Lee!! You're awake!" she gave a cry of happy delight which turned quickly to a scold. "Oh my gosh, Lee, you weren't trying to get out of bed, were you? Of course you were! Lee, you have to stay in the hospital and I don't care what excuse you try to offer this time. Are you trying to get yourself killed?!" This last was issued as a fierce whisper as she approached the bed and sat on the edge next to him. Her wide dark eyes gazed at him in relief and barely contained happiness.

She threaded her hand through his hair, brushing it back in an oddly comforting gesture. "We didn't get Divornasky, but at least we all got out alive. Leatherneck will have a limp for a while. And you…you will just have to take as much time as you need to recover. Lee, you gave me the scare of a lifetime!" She shook her head, and pulled his hand up to rest it against her sunburned cheek. "I'm just so glad you're all right!" She sighed. "I really should go get the doctor; they'll want to check you out thoroughly, and I know how much you're going to love that!"

Lee's brow furrowed as he pushed himself further up in bed, leaning away from his uninvited companion. "I don't know what you're talking about…I don't know a Divornasky and I don't know you," he said as forcefully as his condition allowed. "So if you don't mind," he said, and gestured to the door with a head nod.

"Lee!" Amanda responded in a horrified whisper. "If this is some kind of a joke, it's not the least bit funny."

"Look," he responded irritably, "I've been in an accident and if you don't mind, I'd really rather be alone and get some rest."

"Lee, I'm serious!"

"And so am I!" he responded fitfully. "Do I need to page the nurse's station to get you out of here?"

With shock and worry etched on her face, she slowly said, "All right, then, Lee. I'll go get Mr. Melrose and tell him you're awake. He and Francine have been very worried about you." She quietly rose and stepped away from the bed.

"You know Billy Melrose?" he inquired sharply.

"Of course I know Mr. Melrose," she responded with aggravation. "Lee, I'm your partner!"

"That's ridiculous. I haven't had a partner since…" Since Eric, he thought silently. "I work alone! I don't know what kind of a game you're playing, lady, but…" he began.

"A game?! This is not a game, Lee!" Her voice crumbled. "Oh Lee, you must have amnesia," she said, her eyes welling up with tears. "I knew…I knew you had quite a head injury. That beam got you right across your left temple." Her hand covered her mouth.

Lee felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. His years as an agent had made him adept at spotting a phony. This delicate brunette facing him with the cloud of curly hair and almond-shaped eyes wasn't one of them. She meant what she said, and he was the one lying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and a bandaged head. She knew Billy Melrose and she knew how he felt about hospitals. The sick feeling intensified. If he didn't have his memory, then he wasn't in control and Lee hated being out of control.

"If I have amnesia, they'll take me out of the field," Lee voiced his fears aloud. "I'll be closeted with shrinks from now 'til kingdom come." He rubbed his face with both hands in frustration.

"Lee," she said soothingly. "It will probably all come back to you in just a few days. You've had quite a shock to the system, you know," she finished.

"No! If they know I have a memory problem, they won't trust me to work in the field for months…if ever!" He faced her urgently. "Look…if you're my partner," he said, with his voice and face evincing doubt at the possibility, "you have to help me!"

"Lee, I really think what you need is medical help," Amanda countered.

"Please…" he entreated, "Please." Urgently, he caught one of her hands in his own.

"Honestly, I think…" she argued.

"_Please!_ I need your help." His gaze was inexorable and she knew, as always, she would not be able to deny his heartfelt request.

She looked resigned. "What is it you want me to do?" she responded reluctantly with a sense of déjà vu.

Relief played across his face. "Cover for me…help me as I get my bearings. They can't know my memory is shot. I don't even know what our mission is about." He shook his head in disbelief. "_You_ are my partner?"

Amanda's shoulders drew back and her chin tilted up as she said, "Yes, Lee, I _am_ your partner. I have been for the better part of three years now."

He nodded, but his hesitancy belied his agreement. "What's your name?"

She winced in pain, "Amanda…my name is Amanda King." She looked over her right shoulder and pulled her hands away from his. "I hear voices, I think they're coming to check on you again. I wasn't really supposed to be here. I snuck in during the nurses' shift change. It isn't visiting hours…" Her hands twisted together and her face colored at her admission.

Good God, how could this woman function as an agent if she even felt guilty about disobeying visiting hours, he wondered. He still couldn't countenance that she was his partner, no matter what she said. He preferred to work alone and if he did choose a partner, it wouldn't be someone so missish about breaking a few inconsequential rules.

Her hand rose to lightly cover her throat in anxiety. "I need to tell them you're awake." She gave him an uncertain smile and a small shrug before slipping out the door. Her bearing was at such odds with the way she had originally greeted him, he considered. Just what kind of relationship did he have with Amanda King?

The door swung wide as Billy Melrose and a white coated physician entered, followed by an anxious Amanda. "Lee, you really scared us this time!" Billy said; his smile was wide in relief.

"Mr. Stetson, I'm Dr. Jameson. We're glad to see you awake, finally. Let's see what kind of shape you're in." The spindly doctor took out an otoscope to check Lee's pupils. He began firing orientation questions at Lee designed to check his cognitive state. Lee confidently answered questions about the year, their location and even the current president. When the doctor asked him about what he recalled from the time of his accident, he faltered.

"Just images, really. Heat, smoke, the smell of burning wood and gasoline."

"Was there anyone else there in the warehouse with you?" Billy interjected.

Lee shook his head, eyeing Amanda's subtle gestures behind the section chief. "Just the…six of us," he correctly interpreted her hand gestures.

"There would have been only five at the end, Lee, but Mrs. King here and Dave Cartwright pulled you out of that burning warehouse." Billy's head shook slowly at the haunting memory. "Actually, I really thought we had lost you both." His glance included Amanda, and Lee noted the warmth and affection his section chief displayed toward her.

'Mrs. King'….that meant she was married. Huh. He bet her husband wouldn't appreciate just how warmly she had greeted him when she first arrived!

Amanda made a timely interjection. "Sir, we really were there only a few moments before the explosion and then that beam collapsed and hit him. He didn't have much time to make any observations. It just…it just took a while for me to get him out, that's all."

Lee stared at her incredulously; this slip of a woman had pulled him out of a burning warehouse? A wave of fatigue hit and Lee knew he didn't have it in him to dissemble much longer. The doctor noted the loss of color in his face and informed them all his patient would need to rest.

"You'd better get home to your husband, Amanda." Lee suggested. Billy gave him a startled look.

Amanda gave an uneasy laugh. "Lee…I know Joe has been around a lot more lately to see the boys, but that hardly makes him my husband anymore, no matter what my mother wishes." She subtly tapped her bare left ring finger. Ah, she was divorced. His gut clenched; how was he going to pull this off?

She turned to the doctor. "But, I really should be going. My boys Jamie and Phillip both have tests tomorrow and I doubt my mother has been making them study. You know, she was such a stickler with me when I was young? But she always says to me that the joy of being a grandmother is, that after all these years, she finally gets to say 'yes.' She lives with us in Arlington, you know, and that means my sons are in danger of being spoiled rotten." She smiled at the doctor, who was clearly surprised at this wealth of personal information. Lee realized, though, that she had engaged in the monologue for his benefit. She had two school-aged boys and lived with her mother in Arlington. Got it. He watched her carefully tuck her handbag under her shoulder and quietly exit without looking at him.

"All right, Lee. I'll be back to check on you tomorrow," Billy ended. "And I expect to still find you here in your hospital room! Understood?"

Lee nodded and grimaced. Billy Melrose knew him all too well and so, apparently, did Mrs. Amanda King.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

He saw a lot of Amanda King over the next few days; she kept him company for long hours in the hospital and none of his colleagues seemed surprised at her devotion to him. Billy clearly had a soft spot for his partner, always addressing her with the warm courtesy that he usually only saved for visiting dignitaries and old friends.

She had quickly and efficiently apprised him of their latest mission and any questions that might come his way. They had been set up, and by pros. They had reports of stolen plans for ballistic missile sites that were making their way into Russian hands. All of the covert intelligence information that Francine had acquired pointed to one Russian agent's handiwork in that deserted warehouse. But they had been duped, Divornasky was long gone - if he had ever been there, and the warehouse had been rigged to take out a full complement of agents immediately. It had been a minor miracle that they had all escaped.

With critical eyes, he watched his so-called partner interact with all of his colleagues who came to visit. She had an uneasy truce with Francine, which was honestly the best anyone could hope for. While Francine expressed impatience with the fact that Amanda was spending more time at the hospital than the Agency, her grousing seemed more ritual than genuine. Amanda took it in stride without rising to the bait; it certainly suggested that she had experience in coping with Billy's tetchy assistant.

Leatherneck visited from down the hall, his knee in a heavy brace. While the ex-marine ostensibly was there to visit him, he noted that the man's eyes usually followed Amanda as she quietly flipped through the reports and papers on her lap. She was friendly and warm toward Leatherneck, but just short of encouraging him any further. Yet, Lee could tell the other agent was smitten with her as he bantered with them both. If Amanda was aware, she gave no sign.

Dave Cartwright and Orrie McEvoy stopped by once, just to check in and debrief following the debacle in the warehouse district. Amanda had told him of Cartwright's heroics and Scarecrow was honestly grateful to the stoic agent. Amanda was too, tearfully so. Cartwright had never been brilliant, but he was a solid, reliable agent. Fielder didn't bother to stop by, but that was no surprise, as there was nothing in it for him.

Through all the visits, Amanda had run subtle interference, filling in gaps and making slight gestures that enabled him to bluster his way through each of them without anyone detecting his memory loss. It was a frustrating process; as each day passed, memories would come to him in discordant flashes. But the harder he tried to remember something, failure was guaranteed. It was like diving for pearls of memory in murky waters. Most of the time, he came up empty handed.

Try as he might, he could remember frustratingly little about his partner. What he could recall was sketchy at best - details from cases they had apparently shared. His dependence on her was maddening and it contributed to an overall state of pronounced irritation. Amanda herself, though attentive and courteous, was becoming more and more withdrawn.

"You seriously mean to tell me that you've never completed Station One successfully?" Lee demanded as he flipped through prior case notes that she had provided him.

"No, Lee, I didn't,"Amanda replied patiently, but with a thin thread of irritation at the question. "If you check the notes, you'll see that while I didn't complete the course; we _did_ stop a team of Russian assassins." Her carriage was erect and her chin tilted up, as if she expected more criticism.

"You just don't seem the type," he countered.

"What type?"

"The type to be an agent," he responded, making a vague gesture at her appearance. "You don't seem to be much of a risk taker…I would have pegged you as an accountant, or librarian or something like that."

She gave him a tight smile. "Well, I guess it takes all types, then, doesn't it?" Her patience was wearing thin today. The emotional strain of being with him this week while he had forgotten her was taking its toll. She tried to remember that he had coped with the very same issue when she forgot him in entirety. But that was long ago, before they had become…emotionally involved. Her throat tightened at her loss. What if Lee never remembered her? She had to get out of there.

She abruptly began stacking the case notes on his bedside table and gathering up her belongings. "I'll see you tomorrow, Lee. I need to be getting home to make the boys supper." Her voice was tight with strain and she pointed to a notepad next to the pile. "You have my number if there's anything else you need." Her tone, however, suggested that he not use it. She was a quiet whirlwind of efficiency as she prepared to take her leave.

He had upset her, he realized. Probably it was those comments about her appearance; he didn't realize she was so sensitive. Again, he thought with frustration, she just seemed too…fragile…to be an agent, or even a civilian auxiliary. He sighed in barely contained frustration. "Look, Amanda, I know how hard this has been for you…"

She whipped around to face him, her face set in taut lines. "No, Lee Stetson, you don't. You have _no _idea how hard this has been for me." Her voice was low and fierce. "You lost some of your memory, and I am so sorry this happened to you. More sorry than I can say." Her voice cracked with contained emotion as she continued, "But I…I lost my best friend that day and I don't know if I'll ever get him back." Her laugh was light but bitter as she said, "I don't blame you, and there's nothing we can do about it, but I can't sit here and justify my existence to you for one more hour today. I'm going home!" she finished before pushing her way blindly out the door.

Lee let out an unsteady breath. So there was a tough core under all that gentility. He felt a wave of helplessness and guilt wash over him. Clearly they had been closer than he realized, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

She wasn't going home to make dinner. It was only three o'clock in the afternoon, for goodness sake. But she couldn't, she just couldn't sit there for one more hour of the all-knowing Scarecrow belittling her. They had come so far past that. Her eyes filled with tears that she dashed away with the back of her hand. She picked up the pace to a brisk walk across the park paths and tourists intuitively stepped aside. It was clear to them that this woman meant business.

She let a slow uneven breath, trying to calm herself. She came up behind a park bench and gripped its back tightly, gazing out over the water in front of her. So what was she going to do now? It had been a week, and he showed absolutely no signs of remembering her. Land sakes, they couldn't even get medical advice because no one knew about his memory problem but her.

Why had she ever agreed to this ridiculous charade? 'Because he asked you,' her conscience answered. Fundamentally, she realized that she and Lee had a loyalty that transcended partnership. He had risked treason and death for her. He had supported her when she lost her memory, hadn't he? She had trusted him even when he had turned to shoot her with coldly calculating eyes. She couldn't betray that trust now. Not even when their partnership meant nothing to him anymore.

Her breath caught in an unreleased sob, and she sat on the end of the bench, twisting her hands in her sweater hem. What was it going to be like, day in and day out, working with him now? Especially now that they had become more than partners, more than friends. Just over a month ago, she had the world on a string. Scarecrow had finally come to the realization that the woman he really wanted was, of all people, Amanda King. She would never forget his intense regard as he had locked the world out of the office, saying, "No…Not this time." Finally, they had both succumbed to the feelings that had been building for three years. Oh, that kiss had been worth waiting for!

"It's just not fair!" she whispered brokenly, allowing her tears to fall for the first time since he had woken. All this past week, she had suppressed them, certain that it was a temporary thing. He would surely have to remember her at any time. But he didn't…and he wouldn't. And now, she realized, she would have to find a way to cope with that.

She fished a handkerchief out of her purse. "Sometimes, life's not fair." It was a reply she often had to provide her boys when faced with their heartbreaks. Now, she'd have to live by that same tenet herself.

Well, she decided, she would do what she always had done. When the going got tough, you put one foot in front of the other and just kept going. She would be his partner, and she would cope. And their romance…she would just let it go. Her throat was tight and it was hard to swallow as she felt a fresh wave of tears threaten. She ruthlessly clamped down on her emotions. She had learned over the years not to dwell on what could have been.

First things first, she would find a washroom and repair her appearance. Then, she would head back to work. She nodded decisively with a shade more force than absolutely necessary. Good. She had a plan. All she had to do was keep her recalcitrant heart quiet in the meantime.


	2. Chapter 2

Lee cautiously leaned against the door of the Q Bureau. It felt comfortably familiar though it boasted more plants than he would have used. There was a chess board on the side of his desk. Did Amanda play chess? He could only recall playing the game with T.P. Aquinas on an infrequent basis.

He let out a long breath, realizing how nervous he had been that it would all be unfamiliar. He felt like he was skating on thin ice during every conversation, terrified that he would let something slip. Amanda provided coverage whenever she could, but he felt stranded whenever he was on his own. It felt odd to depend so completely on someone he barely knew.

His eyes caught the pictures on the desk immediately to his right. That must be her family, he realized. Two gangly youths, but you could see their character even in the photo; they would grow into fine men. They each had a hand on the shoulder of an attractive older woman with blonde hair and wide smile. That must be her mother…Lottie…Donna…No! Dotty, that was it. How could he forget? He had certainly heard enough about her family in the past week and a half. No boyfriend, he noted and wondered why. She was pretty enough, though not in a flashy sort of way.

He picked up her coffee mug which had blue cursive printing on it:

_It does well to remember,_

_that Ginger Rogers did_

_everything that Fred Astaire did_

_Backwards…and in high heels!_

His eyebrows lifted in surprise, it seemed a bit defiant for the genteel Mrs. King. Then he saw an inscription on the bottom. "To Amanda. For Hot Chocolate Only. --Francine." That made more sense, though he didn't get the point of chocolate. Whenever he had seen Amanda, she had been nursing an scalding hot cup of tea or coffee. He felt the disorienting flash of memory strike him as it had been doing all week. Amanda's hands were wrapped around a white mug for warmth, breathing in the aroma of her coffee. She leaned back against the counter in his kitchen and smiled at him, a bright, blinding smile…..Then it was gone.

Huh…his kitchen. She looked so…approachable, he thought. Warm and affectionate, and that smile…it was arresting! Just how close had he and Amanda been? It was a question he had been asking himself a lot. Nothing in her behavior in the last week suggested they might have been having an affair. But then, after that first meeting, he had never really seen her smile, either. Not that smile that could light up a room. He had seen tolerant amusement, patient forbearance, even a wincing half-smile that hurt him for reasons he couldn't understand. But he hadn't even seen a flash of anything that resembled passion.

Lee bit down on his cheek in frustration. The truth would win out, eventually. He flipped open his appointment book to see what he had scheduled before his life fell apart at the seams. Nothing specifically scheduled for today…but then, they'd been wholly focused on that Divornasky business. He'd have to wait and ask Amanda. Damn, he hated feeling this helpless.

He looked up in surprise to see the Q Bureau door open. Amanda was holding a stack of binders with two Styrofoam cups of coffee perched precariously on top. He strode over to help her. She grasped the one on the right and passed it to him. "This one's yours."

"Thanks," he popped open the top and took a cautious sip. Cream, no sugar. He sighed appreciatively.

"Mr. Melrose wants us to start from scratch going through the intelligence that we've received. He said there must be some wheat with the chaff," she continued on seriously, "and he asked us to go over these reports with a fine tooth comb. We certainly know now where he isn't." She winced, referring to the failed warehouse bust, placing the binders on the edge of her desk before facing him.

"I don't know how much help I'll be," Scarecrow warned her roughly. "Seeing as I don't remember looking at them before."

"Well, I know that," she countered. "But, I figure this way, we can count on you to see it with a truly fresh set of eyes. You don't know the assumptions we made last time," she reasoned equably.

"Uh…okay, then." Lee was relieved that he might somehow slide back into his role at work, after all.

"Lee," her voice was low and reassuring. "It _will _get better."

"I'm not worried about it, Amanda. I just need to get back in the groove and I'll be fine," he responded sharply. Her reassurance had struck an emotional chord that made him uncomfortable.

She nodded reluctantly and passed the top three binders to him. For hours they worked in uneasy silence, focusing page by page on the material before them. She was a systematic, organized note taker, he observed. Like an accountant, he thought, a bit derisively. Amanda was a little too...perfect, he realized. No one could be quite that perfect. His curiosity itched to find out what really made her tick.

He leaned back in his chair, combing his left hand through his hair. "I think my eyes are crossing and I'm starved, how about you? Want to get lunch?" he asked nonchalantly.

She looked up, startled, clearly having been absorbed in whatever it was she had been reading, though drier material couldn't be imagined, he knew. "Lunch – Is it lunchtime already?" She glanced at the clock. "Oh…okay, you're right. How about I go out and get us a few sandwiches, then?" She rose quickly and placed her hand on the door. She seemed eager to leave. "What do you want?"

He walked over to the door closing the gap between them in long strides. His hand rested over hers on the doorknob. "Why don't I take you out, instead?" he asked in a low voice. "Really…it's the least I can do. You've done so much to help me this week." He smiled intimately at her, with a dimple pulling at the corner of his mouth.

She pressed herself against the frame of the door, pulling back from his closeness. "Well…sure…I guess that would be…fine," she hesitantly replied. "Uh…can you back up so I can open the door?"

His smile deepened as he stepped back a scant foot. She couldn't help but brush against him as she eased out the door. Catching a light breath of her fragrance, he realized that it was more than probable that he and Amanda had been more than partners or would have been soon. There was an underlying attraction that he couldn't deny. It certainly would explain why his calendar had been so free of his usual evening engagements. He had more sense than to write it down when he was having an affair with a colleague. She wasn't his usual type, he would have to admit, but she was…appealing. As they walked down the street to the nearest café, he felt his hand fall to the small of her back automatically, as if it belonged there. The moment was bittersweet for Amanda.

She sat nervously in her chair. She might have predicted that Scarecrow would have pulled out the charm with her sooner or later. She had been counting on later. She grew impatient dealing with Scarecrow, when she was used to being with Lee. They were not fully the same person, the realization dawned on her. Oh, how she missed Lee's quick impudent grin, reserved only for her. Her stomach tensed and she realized she no longer had an appetite for this meal. Even if she knew that Scarecrow's studied charm could be donned and doffed like evening clothes, she was not fully immune to his appeal.

Lee watched her pick at the salad she had ordered, while he was almost done with his meal. She was hiding something, he realized with surprise. And he just itched to know what it was. He shook his head and said with a studied smile, "I could understand forgetting about a lot about my life, I kind of would have liked to forget about Fred…but I just can't imagine forgetting you." His dimpled smile deepened.

Oh, her breath caught. She reminded herself that Scarecrow didn't mean to be cruel, he just didn't realize…Well, perhaps he had given her an opportunity. "You know," she began hesitantly, tracing the length of her spoon with her fingers nervously, "back when I had that episode of amnesia two years ago…" She looked up to see him nod encouragingly. "Well, the doctor said that I might have trouble remembering anything emotionally…complicated."

"I don't do emotionally complicated," Lee countered coolly.

"Ah…well, yes…you do have that history," she faltered, her grip on the spoon tightening imperceptibly as she looked away from the indifferent mask that he presented.

"Do we?"

"Do we what?"

"Have a history?" Lee's gaze was unequivocal and she couldn't look away.

"What do you mean by history?" she asked, taking a nervous sip from her water goblet, gazing at him over the edge.

"Have we ever…" He lifted his eyebrow, and made a rolling movement with his left hand.

"Have we ever…?" She colored lightly. "No. No, we never have."

"So we never…" he repeated, because he was sure there was more to the story. She shook her head decisively. "We never did," he finished for her. He was oddly disappointed. He had been so sure there was something there.

Oh Lord, if the earth could just open and swallow her up at this moment, she would ask nothing more. This had to be the most embarrassing situation. She drank several more sips of water, if only to have something to do.

"Did we ever kiss?" he asked intently, staring at her mouth. A fleeting image of her face tilted up with her parted lips awaiting his brushed through his consciousness. He could almost taste the sweetness of it.

Amanda coughed violently in surprise as the water went down the wrong pipe. She hadn't been expecting that one. What should she say?

She colored deeply, replying, "Well…that depends on what you mean, Lee. I mean, we've been in some strange situations. One time you even booked us on a honeymoon cruise." She looked aggrieved. "So, when we posed as a couple…I suppose you could say we…" Her voice trailed off.

"Kissed."

"For cover, yes. We did."

"For cover?" he clarified. That would explain it, then. She had looked almost bridal in that brief glimpse of memory.

"Yes, on rare occasion. For cover," she prevaricated. She saw no need to elaborate. Scarecrow would only take that as an open invitation to try and seduce her. And if Lee had forgotten…well perhaps she knew why now. As he said, he didn't 'do' emotionally complicated. Without the emotional connection, she knew, she wasn't interested.

"The place is really filling up, I think they need our table….And we really should be getting back to work," Amanda interjected, gazing around the restaurant.

Lee nodded and gestured to the waitress for the check. He gazed at his partner's profile, considering what she had said, and what she hadn't. Whatever there had been, it was clearly water under the bridge for her now. And then, maybe it wasn't. She had seemed awfully nervous discussing the possibility of a personal relationship between them. But, why? Did they have a relationship and then it failed? He wouldn't have thought she would have been so warm to him when he woke up. His every instinct told them there was more to the story than she was telling, and an agent learned to trust his instincts.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

"Look…You stay in the car while I go in and meet with Augie," Lee ordered her, while sliding into the last remaining parking place under the 'All Girls Mud Wrestling FunFest' billboard.

"I don't think so." She gave him a wintry smile before fishing through her purse.

"You don't think…?" His voice rose incredulously, his gaze moving down to where she was searching through her bag. "Just what are you looking for, anyway?"

"Aha! Gotcha. I keep this around for just these occasions, Scarecrow. Don't you even think about leaving me in the car." She slapped a laminated card into his hand before unbuckling her safety belt.

It read "I, Lee Stetson, do solemnly swear never to ask my partner, Amanda King, to wait in the car." It had been dated three months ago. She had even had the damn thing notarized.

He went to return it to her, only to discover that she had already exited the car and locked the door. He stepped out and argued with her over the breadth of the hood.

"Look, Amanda," he began with an impatient smile and a placating voice. "Augie's is not a high class establishment. You won't be comfortable in there and I'll just be a few minutes."

"I know Augie…he's offered me employment," she rejoined.

"Employment?" He laughed with disbelief.

She looked uncomfortable. "Yes, as a mud wrestler. He liked my all-American look." She gave a self-deprecating shrug and nodded her head toward the front door. "Shall we go?"

"It's your funeral," he muttered.

"I certainly hope not!" she replied fervently.

For all her bravado outside, Lee noticed that she stuck pretty close to him once they were in the bar. He actually liked having her close by and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as they jostled through the crowds and the blaring music to Augie's office in back. She looked up and met his eyes in surprise. He sighed, guessing that this was yet again something he didn't understand about their shared history.

"Did you ever take him up on his job offer?" Lee shouted so that she could hear him a scant eight inches away.

"Certainly not!" Amanda looked shocked, then noted by his quick grin that he had been teasing her.

He knocked forcefully on Augie's office door, and receiving no response, he pushed it wide open. As usual, it was a disaster area. How that man strung together a living from day to day, Amanda would never understand.

"Augie?! Augie!" Lee called out. It was strange. Flaky as his informant was, he almost never missed a scheduled visit.

Amanda cocked her head as if to listen and closed the door to the bar behind her. Once it was closed, she thought she heard a scrabbling sound by the closet on her left. She gestured and Lee nodded, pulling his pistol out of its holster in preparation. They flung open the closet door, only to find Augie tied up with ropes and with silver duck tape over his mouth. His eyes were open wide in alarm until he recognized his rescuers.

"Augie…What have you gotten yourself into now?" Lee impatiently put his gun back in the holster. He pulled Augie out of the closet and began untying the ropes that bound him. He knew all to well how painful it was to lose circulation from being bound. Amanda bit her lip anxiously as she tried to gently ease the duck tape off Augie's mouth.

"I dunno, I didn't do nothin', Scarecrow, I swear!" Augie argued as soon as his mouth was freed. "I was in here doing some booking. I got some gorgeous babes from Canada lined up and they are ready to get a little warmer, if you know what I mean!" He grinned suggestively at Lee, then realizing that Amanda was there, he coughed and apologized. "Uh…sorry, Mrs. King. Anyways…I had my back to the door and next thing I know these two guys came in and ripped out the phone cord. They wanted my merchandise or they were going to break my fingers, bone by bone, if you know what I mean…." He shrugged with discomfort. "So what was I gonna do? Sorry, Scarecrow."

"Sorry…Sorry?" Lee bit out. Augie always aggravated him, even on the best of days. This wasn't one of his best days. He paced away from him, combing a hand through his hair in frustration. He turned around and gestured forcefully. "Do you even know what it was they took, Augie?!"

"Lee!" Amanda called out warningly. "Easy!" She turned to smile crookedly at Augie. "You know Augie…if I were in your shoes, I'd give them what I had to and make it look good," she said slowly and thoughtfully. "But I might keep something back for insurance. Otherwise, why would they need to keep you alive? I know you did what you had to do, and nobody blames you for it!" she reassured him even as Lee growled behind her. "But is there any way you can help us?"

"You know what I like about you, Mrs. King? You're a real lady." He shot Lee a rebellious look under his brows. "And I do have something that might be helpful," he eyed his office sorrowfully. "I'm going to have to shell out a lot of dough, though, to fix this place up again."

A tic jumped in Lee's face as he pulled out his wallet and opened it. He pulled out three twenties. Augie continued to look sorrowful. Reluctantly, Lee pulled out another twenty. "This better be worth it, Augie!"

Augie's face miraculously changed to that of an exuberant kid. "Sure, Lee. Have I ever steered you wrong?" Facing Lee's upraised brow, he hurriedly said, "Well…this time I'm sure it's the goods. Look what I got here…" From between two pizza boxes, he pulled out a manila envelope with a dried brown stain on it.

"What did they get, Augie?" Lee asked taking the envelope from him and opening the metal clasp that closed it.

"I dunno, really. Looked like blueprints, all rolled up. Look, Scarecrow…I wasn't arguin' with them about it. I need these hands," Augie defended himself.

Lee's face was a quiet study as he examined the contents of the envelope. "OK. Augie, we're square. You might want to take a few days vacation…if you know what I mean," he finished,nodding his head at the ropes on the floor before heading toward the office door.

"Thank you Augie, we appreciate it!" Amanda gave him a small quick smile, gripping the edge of the door before disappearing behind it to follow Scarecrow. Despite what she had said earlier, she really hated being in this bar. And she knew that if she didn't stick close to her partner, she could very well get dragged in by the crowd to be part of the entertainment.

As soon as they were out in the parking lot, she took huge gulps of fresh, smoke-free air. Lee turned to her with exasperation written across his face. "Why are you so nice to him, anyway?"

"Courtesy is the only free luxury, Lee. Besides…I like Augie."

Lee snorted in disbelief as he opened the car door for her before walking around to the driver's side.

"I said I liked him, Lee. I didn't say I wanted to work for him….So what did we get, anyway?" She inquired, buckling her seat belt and gesturing to the envelope still held tightly in Scarecrow's hands.

"Notes from one of our agents…Islington."

"Islington…isn't he the one who's been missing for two months, the one who started the investigation on Divornasky?"

"Yeah." Lee responded looking at the large red-brown stain which spread across two thirds of the envelope.

"Oh." Amanda said quietly, realizing the implication of the stain.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Amanda's frustration mounted over the next several days as she found herself relegated to a tag-along position with her partner. He was impatiently courteous to her, but he still had to rely on her to keep his memory loss hidden. Whenever he had the opportunity,he did the scouting missions alone, leaving her fuming and twiddling her thumbs at the office. Well, she would have twiddled her thumbs, but there was always some organizational project she could sink her teeth into. They had years of messes to clear up in the Q Bureau. Honestly, at this point she felt like a well-paid filing clerk!

While no one cottoned on to the fact that Scarecrow had lost his memory; they certainly picked up on the distance and strain between the well-respected agents. Amanda couldn't bear the sympathetic looks and had taken to avoiding the coffee room altogether. She particularly kept clear of Francine. Not only did she feel unprepared for the blonde's sarcastic barbs; she also knew Francine was altogether too perceptive about the personal relationships of her co-workers. She was tenacious and would give Amanda no rest if she thought trouble was brewing between her and Lee.

Billy Melrose, though, had a particular interest in his favorite unlikely team. He had hoped…well, some things were not meant to be. But if there was anything that could set them to rights, he wanted it done. Not only because he liked them personallybut also because they had become the most reliable team on his staff. They offset each other nicely. Until recently, he would have said that Amanda had made Lee not just a better agent, but a better man. He had watched and waited long enough. It was time to intervene. When Lee was out, he cornered Amanda in the Q Bureau.

"Ah, Amanda…I believe that's just the report I was looking for…" he commented,reaching for the report she had just finished typing.

"Yes sir. Hot off the press." She smiled, passing it to her superior. "I'll be happy to start those transcriptions now, sir," she said in her courteous but business-like fashion, reaching for the box of audiotapes he had brought with him

"Not just yet," he said gently but firmly, placing his hand over the box after she set it down. "Amanda," he said, then paused as he tried to find the words he wanted. "Are you and Lee having any…difficulties…I should know about?"

"Oh, sir," she flushed, looking down at the surface of her desk. "I don't know what you mean."

"I think you do, Amanda." His tone was serious but supportive. "Perhaps you could tell me what's going on."

Her thoughts raced as she tried to come up with a suitable response. She couldn't betray Lee; after all, he was still doing his job very effectively. His memory loss revolved around their relationship; nothing more. Still,she knew what Dr. Smyth was like and he would pull Lee in from the field, just on policy. That would break Lee, she just knew it.

"Well, sir," she paused as she fabricated, chewing her lip uncertainly. "It all started when I told Lee he should get rid of his car."

"What?!" Billy asked, taken aback. Whatever he had expected her to say; it hadn't been that.

"Well, sir. You know that Corvette is just as bad as the Porsche,really. It's just so inappropriate for most stake-outs. And then there's the time he loses by having to requisition a car from the lot. And well, Gino really doesn't have much patience for him anymore…so half the time we end up using my car. And my car has really taken quite a beating, sir. It's hard to explain to Mother why it spends so much time in the body shop, you understand? The other day I had to hide a bullet casing in the glove compartment before the boys saw it!"

"Uh…I can see how that would be a problem," Billy responded.

She continued to rattle on, picking up steam now. "Well I also pointed out to Lee how much time his car has to spend in the shop. My father always said that if you're going to buy a sports car you need to purchase two, one to drive and one for the shop." She gesticulated with her hands. "Do you have any idea how much money he's paid his mechanic? Anyway, I suggested that a nice gray Oldsmobile or maybe a Mercury would be more appropriate, especially for undercover work." She took a deep breath before continuing. "Well, sir, Lee didn't take too kindly to that and our discussion got a little…heated. I may have…implied…that he wasn't quite ready to grow up, you know, in the heat of the moment. And, well, you know how sensitive he can be, sir."

Billy had never thought of his senior agent as being particularly sensitive, but he nodded uncertainly.

"Well, Lee seems to feel that I've said he's having a mid-life crisis." She shrugged with a crooked smile that indicated embarrassment. "I didn't sir, really, I didn't. I think we're just having a misunderstanding. We'll work through it, you know we always do." She broke eye contact, rubbing the edge of the desk nervously. She hated lying. Lying to Mr. Melrose was almost as difficult as lying to her mother; she felt sick inside.

Billy shook his head. He still felt like he wasn't getting the real story. "Amanda," he sighed. "If there's something more I should know, I'm trusting you'll tell me soon." He looked at her compassionately. "I know Lee isn't always easy to work with, but I do know that he does value you tremendously." He smiled gently and pushed the box of tapes he was holding toward her. "And so do I. I'll let you get back to work."

Amanda smiled weakly. "Thank you, sir."

When he shut the door, she rested her forehead on her folded arms. "It'll get better," she said to herself. It simply had to.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Lee burst into the Q Bureau office with ill-concealed frustration. Another dead-end waste of his time. They weren't making any headway on this case. He slapped his calendar and keys down on his desk and went to the window, cracking open the slats between the Venetian blinds to look at the street below. He stepped back and frowned at the neatly stacked files on his desk, rubbing the back of his neck absently. Amanda had certainly been busy.

He was relieved she wasn't there. He had to admit feeling uncomfortable with her in the room; it was as if there should be so much more to say. She was damnably efficient, he had to admit. But he still couldn't countenance that when he had picked a partner that he had ended up with a housewife from Arlington, no matter how efficient she was. He read the files; she was an accidental arrangement – not a partner. Even now, she wasn't bad, he had to admit; it was just that she wasn't…right for him.

He heard one sharp knock on the door and then Francine entered without waiting for a response. "Good, you're here," she said briskly. "Billy needs to see you before he meets with Dr. Smyth at 3:00 this afternoon." She deposited an armful of folders on the edge of his desk and continued, "These are the past case files you asked for and all of our information about our ballistic missile launch sites. Happy reading!" She turned to go as quickly as she came.

"Francine, wait!"

She turned raising one eyebrow. "Was there something else?" Her tone implied it would be an impossibility.

"No…No…It's not that. Do you have a minute?" he asked, a trifle uncertainly.

She glanced at the narrow gold watch adorning her wrist. "I'm due for a break…at least a short one, anyway. What is it, Lee? Girl trouble?" Her lips turned up in a knowing twist. She sat down gracefully in one of the well worn oak office chairs and twirled on its casters to face him.

Lee gave her an irritated look. "No." He paused. "Francine, what do you think about …Amanda?" he finished with a sharp breath. Asking the question out loud was like pulling a heavy weight off his chest. If there was one thing he knew, Francine did not sugarcoat her opinions about her colleagues.

"What do I think about Amanda?" she asked incredulously. "I think she needs a fashion makeover and to see my hairstylist as soon as possible."

"That's not what I'm asking and you know it, Francine," he responded irritably. He sat gingerly on the edge of his desk facing her.

"Is this a trick question, Lee?" she asked with matching irritation. "Look, I know that I haven't always been Amanda's greatest fan, but I don't think there's any need to rub that in my face."

"No Francine. I honestly want to know what you think. What do you think of Amanda as an agent?"

"She's not an agent, Lee. She's still a civilian auxiliary," she countered with a sniff.

"Semantics, Francine. Just answer my question."

"Okay," she drew out her sentences slowly and thoughtfully. "All things considered, especially since she's never completed formal training…I'd have to say Amanda's been our best recruit in the past five years," Francine admitted grudgingly.

"Really?" Lee's voice implied doubt.

"Yes, really." She looked at him with annoyance. "You're pouring salt in the wound, Lee. I know what I said about her before, but…well, Amanda and I have worked together a lot more in the past few months. I guess my opinions have changed. She definitely has her own style," Francine said as she rolled her eyes. "But she gets the job done and she always backs up her partner." She remembered Amanda's loyalty to her, not long ago. "She's certainly better at keeping up with paperwork than some people I know," she said pointedly.

"But is Amanda a good partner for _me_?" Lee asked her cautiously.

Francine's eyes widened slightly. "Is she…..Well, why don't you check your own case history records? Your solve rate has increased 36 in the past three years." She continued with a falsely sympathetic smile, "And recent history notwithstanding, you've spent a lot less time in the hospital, as well."

"Yeah…well…I just wondered what you thought," Lee said, his tone thoughtful. Francine didn't praise people often, but she always gave credit where credit was due.

"What do I think? OK, Lee, the straight deal is that I think Amanda's become a really fine agent candidate. She has…good instincts, and she's tougher than she looks. And if you ever tell Amanda or anyone else I said this, I'll deny it." She gave a mock shudder. "She'd probably crochet me something."

Lee gave her a sardonic look in reply. His face clearly indicated that his mind remained troubled.

"Lee, is this really about the car? I mean…don't you think you could be overreacting, just a little?" Francine asked.

"What car?" he asked. "I don't know what you're talking about…It's just that I've been thinking that maybe it would be better if I worked alone, that's all. I really prefer it that way."

Francine's face registered shock and she looked uncharacteristically upset. "I doubt Billy would agree with that, or even allow it, Scarecrow. And frankly, in his shoes, neither would I." Her lips tightened as she looked at her long-time friend and colleague. "You know, Lee, Amanda deserves better than that. When I think of all that she has put up with from you…" She gave a short gust of bitter laughter. "Men! I'll tell you one thing, Lee. Amanda is loyal. I'd never be having this conversation with her about you!"

She walked to the door and pulled it open. Turning to look at him, she uttered one final barb. "Don't worry. I won't tell Amanda about this conversation. She wouldn't believe me, anyway." She shook her head in mild disgust. "For some reason, she trusts you." She shut the door firmly behind her, just short of a slam.

Lee sat back surprised and thoughtful. It wasn't easy to win Francine's regard. She tended to be quite

competitive with other female agents. Well, she must know more than he did. Perhaps he should give working with his partner more of a chance, after all.

--

Amanda shrank back into the shadows of the vault, pain clawing at her insides. She hadn't intended to eavesdrop. She wasn't even aware Lee had returned until he began talking to Francine. Not for love or money would she come out of the vault during that conversation. She breathed shallowly, hoping against hope that Lee wouldn't think to check in there. She heard the door open and close. He must be going down to meet with Mr. Melrose, she thought.

Amanda took a deep, unsteady breath. Well,her mother was right. Eavesdroppers heard no good about themselves…except that wasn't entirely true. Even as her eyes filled at the betrayal of her partner, she was oddly comforted by Francine's defense of her. She would never have counted on support from that corner. She gathered up her sweater, purse and a notebook. She needed to head over to the Hotel Madison. There was a housemaid there she needed to interview based on an inside tip. She decided to walk rather than drive. While it was a long walk there and back, perhaps it would help clear her mind. She knew there was a decision she needed to face.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK


	3. Chapter 3

The following day, Amanda approached Francine in the bullpen. "Francine, I was wondering…" Amanda began hesitantly, her fingers gripping her notebook tightly.

The immaculately groomed blonde raised a supercilious eyebrow at Amanda in inquiry. If Amanda hadn't heard the kind words from the senior agent, she never would have had the nerve, but she now knew Francine was more caring than she appeared. Her words came out in a breathy rush. "The thing is, Francine, I really need some advice…I was wondering if you were free for lunch. Anywhere you want…my treat." Amanda lifted her eyes uncertainly to meet Francine's frank blue gaze.

Francine looked startled…and curious andmore than faintly pleased. If there was one thing she appreciated, it was when people knew enough to ask her advice. "Well…I need to be back for a briefing at 1:00. But if you're free to go now, I think I can squeeze in lunch with you."

Francine picked the same café that Lee had taken her to only a few days before. Didn't it just figure, thought Amanda reluctantly. It seemed like Lee's very presence overshadowed every facet of her life. Well…that would just have to change.

"So," Francine drew out the single syllable. "How can I help you, Amanda?"

Amanda nervously folded the napkin in her lap and arranged it into careful pleats. Push had finally come to shove. She chose her words carefully. "Well, Francine…I know you know everything that goes on at the Agency. I need to ask Mr. Melrose if he would do something for me, and I thought it would be best if I talked to you first."

Amanda certainly had her priorities in order, thought Francine. She smiled smugly and gestured for Amanda to continue.

"I'd like to ask Mr. Melrose for a transfer, Francine. I think it's time for me to work with a different partner," she said with quiet decisiveness.

Francine had been lifting a forkful of Caesar salad to her mouth but now carefully lowered it to rest on the plate. To say she was surprised didn't even cut it. She never thought she'd live to see the day when Amanda King had finally had enough of Lee Stetson. "What?" she uttered disbelievingly.

Amanda lifted her chin and colored slightly. She didn't quite make eye contact with Francine. "Well, I think it might be time for me to work with someone else, that's all, Francine. I figured you would know who was available and what they're like. I was hoping you could advise me about my options before I talk to Mr. Melrose."

Francine knew there was far more to the story than she was letting on. Amanda would certainly tell her sooner or later; if she could pry secrets out of Eastern Block agents, she could certainly get that much from the voluble junior agent. Besides, after the way Lee had spoken about her the other day, she could hardly blame Amanda. She was glad the woman had a spine, after all.

Francine nodded decisively. "Right…Well, then…" She went on in detail to describe every available agent, their work habits, case records, relationship histories, and personal peccadilloes. Every thread of their lives was laid bare for Amanda's perusal. "So…the most likely choices Billy could give you are Fred Fielder, Orrie McEvoy, or Dave Cartwright. Fred's an ass, as you well know." Francine rolled her eyes expressively. "But McEvoy and Cartwright are all right, as they go. Orrie's got some charm…I know he isn't as charming as Ian Fraser, but…"

"I'm not looking for charm, Francine." Amanda responded firmly, taking a sip of water.

"Dave's a good enough agent," Francine allowed. She had developed even more fondness for him after he rescued Leatherneck and Scarecrow. "But, well, he's a bit boring, Amanda. A stakeout with Dave is a little like a Chinese water torture…just endless."

"I can do with a little less drama, Francine." Amanda said with a small shrug and a crooked smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"It's funny," Francine laid down her fork having finished her salad. "Until recently, I would have guessed that you'd quit the agency if you couldn't work with Lee."

Amanda shrugged lightly. "I need a job, just like anybody, and I really like the Agency…well, most of the time," she tempered. She lifted her chin and said "I won't be driven away from a job I like."

"Amanda…" Francine began cautiously. "You're…a good prospective agent. Don't let anyone tell you any different." It was the closest she could come to expressing the outright sympathy she felt for the other woman. She knew all too well how easily Lee could break a woman's heart. She was dying to know what had driven Amanda to this extreme, but she knew if she bided her time, she would find out.

"Thanks, Francine. Coming from you that means more than I can say." Amanda said in quiet appreciation. As hard as it was, she was glad they had had this conversation. Now she just had to bite the bullet and meet with Mr. Melrose.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

"So I take it, you and Lee have more differences than just his choice of automobile?" Billy raised his eyebrows as he prodded for more information.

"I guess you could say that, sir," she responded quietly, looking down at her hands folded in her lap.

Billy sighed. One thing he appreciated about Amanda, even if it frustrated him at this moment, was her unwillingness to complain about a colleague. Even now, she was gracious to a fault, assuming all the blame for her failing partnership with Lee.

"You're sure this is what you want?" Billy asked carefully.

"Yes, sir." She met his brown eyes squarely and swallowed. "I think it would be best for me and best for the Agency. I'm sure I'll work very well with Agent Cartwright, sir. I respect him a great deal."

Billy nodded heavily. He had hoped it wouldn't have come to this. "I don't doubt that, Amanda. I could pair you up with anyone here. It's just…Are you sure there isn't anything else you need to tell me?" he made a final push.

"No sir. I think it's just time….and that it's best for everyone involved," she answered calmly.

"Have you spoken with Lee?"

"No…I thought that would be best to speak with you first," she faltered slightly. She wasn't looking forward to that conversation.

He gave her an out. "I'll tell Scarecrow and I'll tell him it was my decision. If I know him, Amanda, I would steer clear of him for a few days until the dust settles, if I were you." He sighed gustily, rising to his feet. "Why don't I go meet with Dave, who I'm sure will be delighted. After that, I'll head off to the Q Bureau."

"Thank you, sir." Her voice was little more than a whisper. He had taken an enormous burden off her shoulders. She rose and quietly made her way to the door.

"And Amanda…" Billy called out to her finally as she gripped the doorknob. "I'm sorry."

She nodded silently, unable to speak, and quickly departed.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

"Lee! How nice to see you." T.P. Aquinas let Lee into his office and then sidled back behind his book-strewn desk. "Can I interest you in some Moroccan mint tea?" He lifted a glass beaker with a smile of inquiry.

"Ah, no….thanks."

"Ah, Lee dear boy….did you know that Morocco has such a strong tradition of hospitality in the home that restaurants are virtually unheard of….well, except for the tourist areas, of course. Now most people only think that couscous is their culinary legacy, but a fine tagine of lamb will convince you otherwise! It's more than a stew, rather a perfect blending of sweet and savory, and…"

"Yeah…uh, T.P.!" Lee interrupted the researcher with a long history of practice.

"Ah…yes. Work. Our very raison d'etre, eh, Lee?" T.P. answered reluctantly, a slight look of disappointment crossing his face. "And where is your lovely partner, the redoubtable Mrs. King?"

Lee thrust his hands into his pockets and a look of tension crossed his face. "She's not my partner anymore, T.P. She's working with Dave Cartwright now."

A look of consternation and genuine sorrow graced the older man's countenance. "Lee…I'm so very sorry. More sorry than I can say!" He shook his head thoughtfully. "She was so…" 'good for you,' he finished mentally. "What happened?"

Lee shrugged defensively. "It was her choice, not mine." He did not want to relive his conversation with Billy Melrose. "Look, T.P.," he hurriedly changed the topic. "Have you heard anything useful about Sergei Divornasky that could help us?"

T.P. looked at Lee in a considering manner. It would be so unlike the loyal Amanda King to make such a request, he couldn't help but wonder what transpired between the two. It was such a shame, he thought; the two were so very good for one another.

"Well, mostly what you already know, I'm afraid." He shrugged. "Word is that he's entirely responsible for our dear friend Mr. Islington's death. He is spending an inordinate amount of time and trouble trying to locate your erstwhile informant 'Augie.' He hasn't been recruiting any assistance, not that we've learned of, anyway. A lone-wolf, so to speak, a romantic and solitary figure is our man, Sergei. However, he has not been able to surface long enough to market his wares to the highest bidder."

"He's not working for the Russians?" Lee questioned in surprise.

"No…No, not at all!" T.P. replied confidently. "He's thoroughly divorced himself from the Kremlin, by all accounts. Quite the capitalist, in fact. He intends to reap the benefits of a free market economy – well, a free black market, at any rate, to provide for his golden years."

"Thanks, T.P.," Lee responded.

"Are you sure I can't interest you in this fine brew? It _is_ delectable." T.P. held out an empty beaker.

"Not today, thanks. I'll need to get back to the Agency with this information." Lee smiled in reluctant refusal. He would have liked to spend more time with his friend.

"Well you know my door is always open, Lee." T.P. offered gently as Lee departed.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Just when Lee thought his day couldn't get worse, it did. "Tell me you're joking, Billy!" he said disbelieving into the phone. "I don't care how often Fielder has asked to work in the Q Bureau; there's just no way you can expect us to share an office, much less be partners."

He held the phone away from his ear as Billy barked his response. "Come on, Billy! Do you have any idea how difficult that guy is to work with?" He paused to listen. "No, I do _not_ think that's the pot calling the kettle black! Yeah…uh-huh…Fine, I'll work with him, but don't say I didn't warn you. Fred Fielder is an insufferable a…" He paused to see his door swing open. "I'll talk to you later, Billy," he said in a peeved tone before replacing the receiver firmly in its cradle.

"Ever heard of knocking, Fielder?" Lee asked caustically.

"I don't need to knock to enter my own office, Scarecrow." Fred Fielder shot back aggressively. He placed a large bin on Amanda's desk. "Hasn't she cleared out her junk, yet?"

"Charming as ever, huh, Fielder?" Lee asked before moving Amanda's photos and coffee mug from her desk. "She only left yesterday." The shock of it still hadn't sunk in; he felt hollow inside. The thought of the abrasive agent pawing through her belongings bothered him.

"Look…Fielder. I'll pack up Amanda's stuff. I'll bet you have more boxes to bring up." Lee felt oddly protective; for reasons he didn't care to delve into, he wasn't even ready to have her belongings moved out of the office.

"Yeah…well it should have been done before I got up here," Fielder said huffily.

Lee bit back an angry response, but shot the other agent a look so hot and mutinous that Fred moved quickly to the door and left. What the hell had he ever done to deserve that insufferable ass as a partner? He hauled an empty cardboard box out of the vault and began quickly filling it with Amanda's personal effects - her pictures, her mug, other odds and ends. Delving through the drawers he found that they were as organized as his were messy. Perfectly sharpened pencils, paper clips and thumbtacks neatly in their assigned trays. He pulled out a sealed glass jar filled with tea bags. He found a small framed certificate of honor from the President, meekly resting in one drawer. He knew agents who had strived throughout their whole careers without any such recognition. He wondered how she had earned it.

Lee heard steps approaching in the hallway and quickly slung the box onto his desk. Fred had better not plan on moving too many effects in, he thought viciously. There was no way his stay would be a permanent one.

-- -- --

That evening, Lee restlessly paced around the apartment. Distraction…that's what he needed -- a distraction. He went over to his bookcase and picked up a new Keith Hellerman thriller off the shelf. His eyebrow raised in speculation. He couldn't recall reading it. He flipped open the front cover. In gentle cursive he saw the inscription. _"Dear Lee, With best wishes for a Happy Birthday, Love Amanda." _Photos spilled out of the book and onto the floor.

The first one was of him; he looked relaxed and happy, grinning at the camera as he looked over his shoulder. The second was of Amanda, sitting on a boulder with her arms wrapped around her legs, a sunny smile on her face. His thumb slid through the photos until he found one of the two of them. He had his arm slung casually over her shoulder as they stood on the deck of a sailing sloop. She was laughing looking up at him with her heart in her eyes. He was looking down at her like a man besotted. Oh man, he felt a sudden punch to the gut. What had he lost? Why hadn't Amanda told him?

He sat down heavily. It was almost like a case he had to figure out - piecing together whatever it was he and his former partner had meant to each other. He fingered the edge of the snapshot of the two of them. He couldn't recall the details, though he knew he should be able to. The fragments of memory were haunting him and driving him crazy. He could recall holding her hand and running for cover behind a stack of crates. He could almost see a glimpse of her asleep, resting on his couch. He could recall a brief, crisp memory of her delicate profile lit by streetlight as they waited in what must have been a stakeout. But what he couldn't grasp was the totality, an understanding of what they had been like together. And he didn't understand why she suddenly felt the compunction to end the partnership.

He let out a short sigh of frustration, tossing the pictures onto the coffee table. He leaned back into the sofa and rubbed both hands over his face. His thoughts continued to haunt him. No matter what Billy had said, he could read between the lines. Amanda must have asked for the transfer. But why? Francine had assured him that she hadn't talked to Amanda about their conversation. He cautiously assessed his interactions with other agents. None of them appeared to have the least suspicion of his impaired memory. So, she had kept his confidence despite all this. Why? Why then had she felt the need to leave him? His insides tightened and he didn't know why it should affect him so.

Now to be saddled with Fred Fielder just added insult to injury. The man was a rude, reckless glory hound who had no concept of what it meant to work with a partner, unlike Ama… He cut that thought off quickly. This wasn't getting him anywhere.

He stood, snapped the book shut and put it back on the shelf quickly, as if it had burned him. Traces of what he should remember followed him everywhere. He would get no relief from the unease tonight.

-- -- --

Amanda pulled the dried towels and sheets from the dryer, folding them neatly and putting them in piles. Her movements were mechanical, just as they had been all day. She was going through the motions of living, she realized. When would it get easier? When would she start to forget?

While most would have minded the silence of working with her stoic partner, she appreciated Dave's calm, quiet demeanor. He never asked the uncomfortable questions that hovered near the tip of everyone else's tongues in the bullpen. He expressed no obvious surprise and asked no awkward questions, but instead gave her a hefty pile of files to glean. She was grateful to get lost in the workload. She was still more grateful that Scarecrow had not followed her down to her new cubicle to cause a scene.

But even as she had the thought, her lips tightened in a frown. Why hadn't he bothered to come to talk to her? Didn't he even wonder or care at all that she was no longer his partner? Of course not, she suppressed a near-hysterical laugh; he was just relieved she had beaten him to the punch. She had saved him an incredibly awkward scene, after all. The pain should have cut like a knife, but at this point, she felt numb.

She heard a soft rapping on the back door. It was the Anderson girls from down the street, she was sure. Sometimes the closeness of her neighbors was excessive. She sighed and brushed her hair back into place off her forehead. She had already bought three boxes of Girl Scout cookies this week from them and no matter what, she wasn't going to buy one more. She went to the back door and swung it open, determined to be firm but kind. She looked up in startled shock to see Lee's warm hazel eyes gazing seriously into her own.

"Lee….I wasn't…I wasn't expecting you," she stammered. "I didn't think you remembered where I lived," she finished awkwardly.

He cleared his throat and his hands clenched in the pockets of his leather jacket. "Well, I looked it up in your personnel file before I left work."

Oh, of course, she thought sadly. "Was there something you wanted?"

"Yeah…um…look is this a good time? I mean, are you alone?" he asked cautiously, looking over her shoulder.

"Oh…well, yeah. I guess I have a few minutes." She shrugged, opening the door wider. "Mother and the boys are at the Boy Scouts Jamboree. They won't be home for a while, yet." She had felt so leaden when she got home, she hadn't had the energy to go with them.

Lee turned around to pick a package off her picnic table. He entered and placed it on the edge of her kitchen counter. He breathed in the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg. Amanda had been baking again. He bet it was that Armenian Nutmeg sponge cake that was his particular favorite. Huh…how had he known that? "I didn't want Fred packing up your things, so I did it and thought I'd bring them over. I figured you'd be wanting them for your new desk."

She slipped her hands into the front pockets of her jeans and nodded. "Thanks, Lee…I appreciate that."

An awkward silence reigned for a moment as they stood in her kitchen. "Amanda, I…"

"Lee, why…" she spoke simultaneously. She smiled slightly, "You first."

"Amanda…you asked for the transfer didn't you?" he asked gently. She nodded as she broke eye contact and lightly shrugged. "Why?" he finished.

"I heard you," she said softly. "That day you were talking to Francine. I was filing in the vault. I didn't mean to eavesdrop but by the time I realized what you two were talking about, it would have been awkward to announce my presence." She looked up at him with dark, shuttered eyes. "I just thought it would be easier…for everyone…if I…" She took a deep breath and corrected herself, "if _we_ stopped trying to be partners."

Lee's head snapped back. He could feel the understated pain in her voice and he knew he was the cause of it. It didn't make him proud. He reached out a hand in entreaty. "Amanda, I…I didn't know…I wouldn't…" He took a deep breath to pull his thoughts together. "You and I…meant something to each other, didn't we?"

Amanda nodded and looked away. She couldn't continue this conversation without her eyes filling up with tears. The emotion in her voice would give her away.

"Do you think we could try again?" he asked quietly. "At least to be friends and partners?"

She shook her head before replying slowly. "Lee, it would just be too hard for me. I'm sorry…I'm not a big enough person for that." She tilted her chin up and looked him in the eye. "Look, there must be some reason that you specifically can't remember me. Maybe, deep inside, there's some reason you just don't want to…Let's just go on from here, but not as partners." Her voice cracked as she said, "I'm sure, in time, we'll have some kind of friendship, Lee, but right now I think we need to give each other a little time."

"So you're going to leave me to the mercies of Fearless Freddy Fielder?" he asked cajolingly, trying to catch her eyes.

She quirked a small smile. "I'm sure you'll manage, Scarecrow. He can't be all that bad."

"Ha! You haven't listened to him lecture endlessly on the proper way to conduct an investigation, _or_ an interrogation, _or_ a pursuit. The man is a legend in his own mind." He asked the next question a shade too casually, "So how's Dave?"

"He's fine," she responded quietly. Inside her mind, she could hear herself protesting, 'But he's not you!'

He was perversely happy to note that she didn't seem happy to be working with the quiet agent, no matter what she said aloud. He turned to leave and paused at the kitchen door. He looked over his shoulder, "Amanda, I really am sorry," he said regretfully.

"So am I, Lee. So am I." Her response was a whisper and he noted the track of a solitary tear as it chased down her cheek.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, Lee was filled with an uneasy foreboding. It was as if the dark, oppressive stillness of an impending storm hung over him wherever he went. He and Fred shared an uneasy truce in the Q Bureau. Fred, for a change, was silenced by the brooding tension in his new partner.

Lee was in the bullpen, preparing for a briefing with Francine when he heard Billy call out to the reception clerk. "Caroline. Did Cartwright or Mrs. King call in for their check-in?"

"Not yet, sir," she responded.

Billy frowned and nodded, looking overhead at the clock by the coffeemaker. "Well, find me in the conference room if they miss their next check-in."

Lee felt the tension in his gut ratchet up a notch. To hell with that. He excused himself from Francine and casually made his way over to the cubicle Dave and Amanda now shared. Her appointment book was left neatly in the upper right corner of her blotter, as usual. He flipped through the pages until he came to the most current page. Huh…she and Dave had a meeting with an informant on High Street, down near that fiberglass manufacturing plant. And Billy was worried. Two and two was not adding up to four.

He snapped her agenda shut and placed it on the desk. This was one briefing he was just going to have to miss.

Scarecrow turned and crossed the bullpen and hurried out to the elevator with long, quick strides. Everyone who knew him recognized his firm intent and melted out of his way. All except for Fred, who buttonholed him at the elevator. "Scarecrow, where do you think you're going? We're supposed to be in the conference room right now!"

"No can do, Fred. Sorry. I got a Zulu Blue and have to leave now," Scarecrow responded shortly.

"A Zulu…What? And you thought you'd just leave without me?!" Fred snapped indignantly as he followed Lee into the clothes-filled elevator. "Look, buddy, you cannot just walk all over me like your precious Mrs. King, you hear? You have an inside tip, don't you? Spill it, Scarecrow…you're not going to bust this one wide open and take all the credit."

Lee gave the other agent and quick look of loathing and disgust. "Save it, Fred. This has nothing to do with you."

"Bullshit. It has everything to do with me. Like it or not, I'm you're partner now."

Not, thought Scarecrow. This would go on record as one of the shortest partnerships ever; he knew it. Because if Fielder didn't transfer, he was going to kill him with his bare hands, just for the sheer pleasure it would bring him. He didn't have time for Fielder's insecurities, not now. He didn't bother to answer the other agent.

Lee stepped off the elevator and exited the building with long strides. Despite his height, Fred had trouble keeping up as Scarecrow rapidly reached his silver Corvette.

"You really think I'm going to let you go without me?" Fred blustered. "I'll shoot out your damn tires if I have to."

Lee tripped the lock for the passenger door. "Just shut up and get in, Fielder." His tires squealed as he peeled out of the agency parking lot and made record time across the city. All the while, he tuned out his new partner's needless bluster and bravado. Fred knew Lee wasn't listening to him, which only elevated his ire.

"So where the hell are we going, anyway, Scarecrow? I have other important appointments this afternoon," Fielder's last shot penetrated Lee's focused mind.

"Important appointments?! You were the one who was going to shoot out my tires if I didn't take you, hotshot!" Lee fired back. "1837 High Street. Yellow brick warehouse. It'll be on the left."

"Who are we supposed to meet?" Fielder asked, counting down the buildings as they went.

"I have a bad feeling it'll be Sergei Divornasky," Lee said in a voice laced with tension.

"And you didn't call for backup?" Fielder asked furiously. "If you ever checked Agency protocol, Scarecrow, it specifically states…."

"Look, I didn't bring you to be a talking field manual," Lee shot back angrily. "And we _are_ the backup, you idiot. Dave and Amanda missed their check-in."

"Does Billy know you're doing this?" Fred asked suspiciously.

"There…1837. That's Dave's car, and they're not in it." Lee said, ignoring his question. "Look, you take the left of the building and I'll take the right. Remember, Sergei may be a lone wolf, but he's a demolitions expert and he's got nothing to lose." Lee checked his pistol for bullets before looking the other agent in the eye. Fred had the sense to be good and nervous.

"Do you think we should call for more back-up?" Fred wet his lips nervously.

"We don't have time."

"How do you know?" Fred countered.

"I just know, Fred. Look, let's just get in there and do our job." Lee's sharp sense of foreboding was growing and he climbed cautiously out of the car, scanning his surroundings.

He hugged the left side of the yellow concrete brick building and then jerked his head, indicating for Fred to take the right as he provided him cover. They made their way low and silently around the perimeter of the building. At the far end, he thought he caught a flash of movement through the corner of his eye. It couldn't be Fielder; it was too close for that.

Moving forward between the sheds and crates beyond the building, he heard the quiet tap of steps on pavement. He followed on stealthy feet, trying to catch a glimpse of his quarry. Finally, he saw him. A short, swarthy man, thin and balding. In stunned disbelief, he saw that he was clutching a detonating device and turning to the building behind them.

Too late. "Noooooooo!" he felt the scream rip from his throat as Divornasky tripped the switch. He turned in horror to hear the series of explosions rip through the concrete building behind him. Somehow, he knew, he just knew Amanda was in there. He heard the scuffle that ensued as Fielder tackled the former Russian agent. Perhaps his duty was to apprehend the agent, but he had a higher priority now.

Covering his mouth and nose with his jacket sleeve, he rushed toward the imploded warehouse. White concrete dust rose in clouds around him. "Amanda!! Amanda!!" he shouted loudly, climbing over the rubble, looking for any sign of life. Heedless of the danger of crumbling walls around him, he pulled debris from below him, continuing to bellow her name.

Fabric, he saw fabric. There. With scratched and bleeding hands he pulled at the concrete slabs. "Fielder," he shouted and coughed. "Fielder…get your ass over here!" He needed help.

Fred Fielder came into view, gingerly climbing over the debris. "Scarecrow, I've handcuffed him to a shed, but I really shouldn't leave him totally unsecured. He's a priority one…"

"Will you _shut up!_" Lee shouted. "This is Amanda under here. Or Dave…I can't tell."

Fred Fielder turned white with shock. "Good God. They were in here?" He scrambled up the pile of rubble to help Lee dislodge the heavy slabs that lay over whoever was below. Adrenaline and panic gave them inhuman impetus to free their colleagues.

Fred pushed back one more crushing block. "Lee…I think it's both of them!"

He was right. Dave Cartwright lay over Amanda, cradling her with his stocky frame from the devastation that had fallen around them. He moaned softly. Fred whistled; if he was alive, it would be a miracle. Dave must have broken most of the bones in his body protecting his partner. They couldn't move him. He would need a body board and EMTs to get him out of there. Through a haze, Lee heard Fred say he was going for help.

Lee felt his throat close with tears. In that moment, hearing the detonation explode, he knew all that Amanda had ever meant to him. She lay in eerie stillness below her partner. Memories piled in on Lee thick and furious and he felt his hand shaking as he reached past Dave's prone form to check the pulse at her neck. It was there, steady and strong. His breath caught on a restrained sob. They had to get her out of there. She had to be all right. God had given him one more chance, and he was not going to blow it this time.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

It had been a miracle, Billy Melrose reflected. A full-blown miracle, that not once, but twice, his agents would come out of those devastated warehouses alive. Not well, but most importantly - alive.

When he came to consciousness, after ascertaining his partner was all right, Dave Cartwright asked Billy for a transfer to the cryptology department. It would take the agent months to recover from the 23 broken bones and internal injuries he had sustained. As he said to his superior, in his usual low-key way, he wanted to live to enjoy his retirement. Billy had nothing but respect for the man. According to his report, it was Amanda who had first noticed the explosives strapped to a beam overhead. When she pointed it out to him, he had tackled her, shielding her body from the toppling concrete slabs with his own.

If there was anyone more grateful to Dave Cartwright than himself, Billy reflected, it would have to be the Scarecrow. He looked to be a shadow of his usual self. The man hadn't eaten or slept in days and had been hovering around Mrs. King's hospital bedside whenever her family wasn't there. She still seemed unusually reticent with her former partner. He knew that whatever issues there had been, though, they would work out together.

Fred Fielder had demanded a promotion based on his single-handed collar of Divornasky. While Billy hadn't wanted to give it to him, Lee had pointed out that by doing so, Fred could have Humbug's old office to himself. If he didn't have to listen to daily complaints from one of Fred Fielder's cube-mates, it could only make his own life easier. It might just be easier to promote him up and out of the way. Perhaps he would even seek a transfer to another department, the section chief thought hopefully. And, in point of fact, it also created an opening back in the Q Bureau. He was certain things there would soon return to the status quo.

Finally, they had recovered the ballistic missile site information before it had been sold and Divornasky was in custody. Islington had not died in vain.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Amanda woke reluctantly and then decided on the whole, she would rather not. Every part of her ached or downright hurt. But she realized above all, how fortunate she was to be alive. She looked over at the chair next to her bed and was surprised to see Lee asleep there. It wasn't designed to support a man of his height, and he looked awkward and uncomfortable. She couldn't imagine how on earth he had fallen asleep in that position. He also looked a little rough around the edges. He hadn't shaved and his hair was tousled. His clothes were rumpled. It was completely unfair, she thought uncharitably, that he could look disreputable and still look good.

On the other hand, she knew without checking a mirror that she looked like death warmed over. It was _so_ unfair. She bit her lip in confusion. Why was Lee even there? He must have been there throughout, she realized, though she couldn't recall all the events with clarity. She remembered Lee coaxing her to hold on and stay calm until the emergency team could extricate them. He rode with her in the ambulance and she could foggily recall him being there during the past few hours or days. She realized with alarm that she didn't even know how much time had passed since the explosion.

But again, she wondered, why had Lee stayed? Did he feel guilty or somehow responsible? Why was he even there at the warehouse? Only Billy had known where they were going. She'd had misgivings about the meeting; she should have trusted her instincts. Water under the bridge now, she supposed.

She studied Lee's sleeping face. He must be anxious, she thought, noting the slight furrow of his brow and the tight set of his mouth. His face was so dear to her, not because he was so handsome, but simply because it was his. Why couldn't she have fallen for a simpler man? She bit her lip and looked away. There was no sense in coveting what she couldn't have.

He stirred and she felt her pulse begin to pick up. What on earth could she say? She had no idea where they stood now, or even why he was here.

He opened his hazel eyes slowly and spoke with rough surprise. "'Manda?" Seeing her nod shakily, he sat up quickly. "Amanda…you're awake!" The warmth of his smile was genuine and she couldn't help but bask in it.

"Kind of wish I wasn't, but yeah, I'm awake now." She laughed self-consciously; her voice was weak.

"Amanda…I thought I lost you!" His hand reached out to grasp hers gently.

"Well, I seemed to have made it," she said inanely. "I…um…I didn't expect to see you here," she finished awkwardly.

"No, I guess you probably didn't," he replied, chagrined. "Amanda…I remember."

She cocked her head and looked a little disbelieving. "Lee, it's okay. I'm all-right. You don't need to try and make me feel better."

"Make you feel better?!" he exclaimed. "Amanda…believe me. I remember everything!"

"Oh. Okay, sure." She looked down at her fingers intertwined in her lap on the white sheet.

Lee pushed himself into a standing position and strode over to the door of the hospital room, closing it firmly but quietly. He turned to her and said from across the room. "Your favorite color is pink."

She looked up and met his hazel eyes in surprise. She had no idea what to expect him to say, but it hadn't been that!

"You love pot roast…and only God knows why, succotash." He took a measured step toward the bed.

"You're not wild about horses, but you loved stuffed animals."

She met his eyes as he slowly drew closer.

"You like white wine and you hate beer, but you'll drink it to be social. You think it tastes like soap." He sat down in the chair and threaded his long fingers through hers. "Jamie and Phillip play on the Bombers baseball team. You're favorite book when you were a kid was Sky Chief Rides Again. You like to cha-cha." He gave her a devastating smile and kissed the back of her hand. "You have a weakness for French perfume and Belgian chocolate. And you wish you had the guts to say every catty thing that comes to your head when Francine's being nasty. Amanda…I remember you and I remember _us_." His left hand tenderly caressed her cheek and brushed her hair back from her forehead.

She could feel tears coming to her eyes; how could she not be moved by what he said? Yet, she knew that things were not the same as they were a few short weeks ago, no matter what he remembered now. She couldn't just forget the hurt he had caused even if he hadn't meant to. She couldn't forget the misgivings she had, for she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Lee had forgotten her because he wasn't ready for the relationship they had begun to develop. She'd had a taste of what it would be like when she and Lee broke up, and she now knew how devastated she would be. Better to put the brakes on now, she reasoned, before she fell any further.

"That's great, Lee. I'm glad you have your memory back. It must be a relief." She averted her eyes and pulled her hand away from his.

He looked stunned and his expression was suddenly very vulnerable. "Amanda…" his voice entreated her.

She hurt all over, inside and out. She wasn't up to coping with her feelings, even less to having this discussion. "Lee," she said, her voice thready with exhaustion, "would you see if they'll call my family? Mother will want to tell the boys I'm going to be OK."

Lee wanted to argue with her and bring her to her senses. But she was right. This wasn't the time. "Of course," he murmured, backing away and heading out the door to the nurses station. Lee had never felt more helpless except when he had gazed down at her still body under the fallen concrete. His gut clenched. He was losing her and he didn't know how to stop it.

'No, damn it,' Lee thought. He had come so close to losing her in a myriad of ways. He couldn't and he wouldn't lose her now. Steeling himself with newfound resolve, he determined that he would win back Amanda one way or another.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

The weeks following stretched into a month. Amanda had succumbed to his persistent entreaty to return to the Q Bureau. He had thought he could thaw her resolve, but she remained politely professional…and so very distant. She seemed to be back to being herself, but Lee knew Amanda, through and through. Her spark and her vivacity were too contained. Amanda was still keeping some vital part of herself tucked away, and the loss was killing him.

Being careful not to step on Dotty's tulips, he approached her kitchen window with some trepidation. He had tried to talk to Amanda time and again at work, only to be stonewalled. He needed to talk to her privately and he wasn't taking no for an answer this time.

He peered in through the window. She was just pulling something out of the oven, her back to him. He waited until she had set it on the cooling rack before tapping the window. While he had to admit that he enjoyed startling her a bit, he didn't think it would endear him to her to send her baked goods flying through the air.

She whirled around to see him in her kitchen window and a slight smile pulled at her mouth. He took a steady breath. It was a warmer response than the panicked looks he had been getting a month ago. She approached the sink and opened the casement. "Hi. I didn't expect to see you tonight!" she whispered.

"Yeah…I know," he gave her a half-smile and then looked away, clearing his throat.

She looked at him expectantly. There had to be some reason he was here. She missed this, these late night visits. No, she thought, stick to business. "Was there a problem with the case notes I typed? I mean…well…Why are you here, Lee?"

"I came to trim your mother's rosebushes…Honestly, Amanda what do you think? I just want to talk to you." He winced. He knew he was being defensive and that wouldn't help matters any. He took a short unsteady breath. "Amanda, please, I think we really do need to talk."

She sighed. She knew this had been building for the past week or two. It was inevitable and they needed to at least clear the air if they were going to work together. She longed for the easy camaraderie they used to share. "It's late," she commented.

"I thought the boys would be asleep," Lee countered.

"Oh all right," Amanda agreed reluctantly. "Mother?" she called up the stairs.

"Yes, darling?" her mother responded.

"Mother…I'm going out for a walk," Amanda called back.

"Amanda! Are you sure that's a good idea? It's late and it's cool out. You know you're just barely back on your feet again and now you're sauntering out on a late night stroll." Her mother's voice became louder as she came down the stairs.

Lee ducked out of sight into the shadows. "Mother, I'll be fine. Really."

"Where are you going, anyway?" her mother asked with the nosiness endemic to mothers everywhere.

"Mother! I promise not to do anything that will land me in the emergency room." She couldn't very tell her mother that she had no idea where she was going.

"Oh, very funny, Amanda! If you don't want to answer my perfectly _reasonable_ question…well, I'm not your keeper!" Dotty sniffed.

"I'm sorry, Mother, I was just teasing. I'll be fine and I'll be back home before you know it." She kissed her mother on the cheek and grabbed her sweater before heading out the kitchen door. She'd learned over the years that a sweater was something you needed to wear when your mother was cold.

Dotty sighed and shook her head before turning off the kitchen light and heading back upstairs.

-- -- --

"So where are you taking me?" she asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

"Anywhere we can talk," he answered honestly. "It's Sunday night…there isn't a lot open."

"How about the park?"

"Sure," he agreed equably before pulling away from the curb, heading over to the park they considered 'theirs.'

They walked in companionable silence, neither knowing where to start. Lee was relieved when he linked his hand in hers that she didn't pull away. They strolled onto the Japanese bridge that graced the center of the pond and Lee stopped, leaning back against the rail.

His throat closed. Amanda was so beautiful, her profile silver gilt by moonlight. She gazed out over the water, her face unreadable. How was he going to find the words he needed to say to win her back?

"You wanted to talk?" she prompted quietly.

He nodded and then turned to face the water as well, resting his forearms on the bridge rail. It was too difficult to face her directly and lay his heart bare. "Amanda…why…why don't you trust me anymore?" His voice was rough with emotion.

"I do trust you, Lee…but…" She paused.

"No, Amanda, you don't. Because when you trust, there are no 'buts'," he replied soberly. "Look, Amanda. I don't know exactly why I forgot you when I had amnesia…" His voice was halting.

"I do." She replied quietly; her voice rang with certainty.

"What?!"

"I think, Lee, that you forgot me because in your heart of hearts, you didn't want to remember," she whispered, her voice cracking with strain. "I think you had a lot of doubts about us and when your subconscious gave you an out, you took it."

He shook his head; she was so very wrong. "Amanda, do you remember when we talked about forgetting things that were emotionally complicated?"

"Yes…But you don't _do _emotionally complicated." Her voice contained more than a hint of bitterness.

"I don't…No, I _didn't_ do emotionally complicated." He laughed without humor and looked at her briefly before shaking his head. "I didn't…and I missed out on a lot. Trust me, Amanda, nothing in my life has ever been quite as emotionally complicated as…_this._" He gently cupped her face with one hand and leaned in for a long, sweet and chaste kiss.

Her eyes closed in remembered appreciation and her heart stuttered. She tried to steel herself against falling, but here she was, doing it again.

"Amanda, I…" he couldn't get the words out, no matter how much he wanted to say them. He just wasn't ready. "I…_need_ you." His heart was in his words as her eyes met his vulnerable ones. Her hand impulsively squeezed his. He went on, "I do….More than you need me." He gave a short gust of laughter as she opened her mouth to argue with him. "No, Amanda, just listen to me. It's true. You have so much in you….people _love_ you. Your mother, your sons….hell, half the people in the agency are begging to work with you. The fact is that without me…you'd be just fine. You'd fill your life with people, just as you always do, and you'd care for them and they'd care for you." His voice roughened with emotion as he tried to finish, tried to make sense to her.

"I don't have that, Amanda. I don't have a history of long relationships…I don't mean just with women, I mean with anybody. You would be fine, Amanda. But I…I would be lost without you." He turned and gripped her arms by the elbows, willing her to look at him and see the truth in his eyes. "I would be lost without _you_."

Her eyes filled with tears and she shook her head mutely. She had to believe him. He had to convince her somehow. He took hope that her eyes gazed so searchingly into his.

He pulled her in for a hug. "Do you know in the weeks that I couldn't remember us, I never laughed? And neither did you!" he pointed out. "Amanda, what we have is rare and special and I'm begging you, please don't throw it away." He kissed her gently. "Please, don't write me off yet."

Her heart broke, but at least now she wasn't in this alone. He would be just as devastated at losing her…at losing _this_…as she would be. She let herself get swept away in the heat and the longing they shared, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning into his kiss.

Lee pulled back first. "Amanda…don't leave me hanging…What are you thinking?" he whispered against her lips.

"I'm thinking that I've been a damned fool," she laughed quietly, meeting his eyes.

"Amanda King, I do believe you actually swore!" he said in mock surprise.

"I believe I actually did! You must be rubbing off on me," she joked. But then her face grew serious. "I wouldn't be fine…I _wasn't_ fine without you, either, Lee. I…need you too." Her forehead rested against his chest as he gathered her closer. It was so good to be back where she belonged, where she had feared she would never find comfort again. She sighed shakily.

The peace of the cool night stole upon them as they took solace in each other's arms. They both knew there was more to say. They had only imperfectly begun. But at least they knew that, in time, all the words would come. For tonight, it was a new beginning…and it was enough.

The End.


End file.
